Adventures in Space
by Vivian Hale
Summary: Saber's life post-eye problem. As much as she wishes it was rainbows and energon, it's not quite working out that way. By Athena, my editor/co-writer
1. Foster Parent

Foster Parent

It was said that Ratchet had a sixth sense for people sneaking into his medbay. "Saber," he sighed and turned to the red youngling. Her normally pristine paint job was a bit scruffy looking, which was odd, but not troublesome. Vaguely, he wondered about it before letting the thought drift away. Lots of 'bots looked like that at one time or another. "What are you doing here? I cleared you a long time ago," he stated as he picked up a bit of medical machinery and continued to recalibrate it.

"I had patrol," she replied quietly, antenna-spikes drooping slowly.

"And?" responded Ratchet. "You're fine. Be gone. Go find Wild," he huffed. "The medbay isn't here for everyone's entertainment after a boring patrol," he griped, feeling especially grouchy today.

"I had to stand in the rain," Saber muttered, "And now I'm cold, and I'm tired... and my eye still hurts. I hurt all over and my paint is ruined. Sideswipe teased me, and then I started feeling... psychotic. So I left and he teased me more. I don't think he meant it but it bothered me... I miss my brother," she finished shakily, and looked away, leaning away from Ratchet as though expecting a wrench to the head.

Ratchet could only stare, and for the millionth time, wondered just how young this youngling was. She was due for a final transformation mode upgrade anytime, but she was still fairly young.

Young enough to need some sort of authority figure in her life, he realized with a start.

_I should remember this, _he thought. Younglings are still... young. They need someone to act as a foster creator. He studied the pathetic creature before him, still shrunk back, staring at the ground.

Then he quietly got her a thermal blanket, some energon, and offered her a reading tablet.


	2. Bad Idea

Bad Idea

Saber twitched.

It was new; it was just something that happened now though. Her mentor, Sideswipes brother, had handed her a sword and she wanted nothing more than to swing it around like there was no tomorrow and be an instant ninja.

"Put the sword in subspace. We're warming up first," Sunstreaker growled, apparently not liking her sparkling-like enthusiasm of sharp weapons.

Saber mutter-growled, put the sword away, and wished for the millionth time that Wild was allowed to these practices. She felt so alone during them, and she was positive she and Sunstreaker had developed a mutual respectful-hate relationship.

Never mind. It was time to be beaten to pulp again, and walk away limping. Then she could go nurse her scratches and dents in her room and...

CLANG!

The sudden punch made her yelp and fall over.

"Pay attention!" Sunstreaker barked. "I can't have you falling into happy-land every time I-"

CLANG!

Saber wondered if anyone had ever punched Sunstreaker hard enough to land him on his aft and lived to tell about it.


	3. Flying Projectiles

Flying Projectiles

Athena: THIS IS UTTER CRAP. YOU BEEN WARNED.

-0-

Saber felt watched. She squinted and snapped her head up, staring around the cafeteria.

Sideswipe.

He was _watching her._

"What?" she snapped. Sides continued to stare.

"What?" she asked again, annoyed. He had such a blank look on his face, and it was annoying the slag out of her. "What do you want, Sideswipe?" she growled.

Sideswipe didn't even grin.

At which point Saber found it appropriate to throw her energon at him and scream "Stop judging me!" before screaming wordlessly and stomping away. Sideswipe broke down into delirious giggles, and Ratchet beaned him with a wrench. "Stop staring at her!" he shouted. Then he retrieved his wrench and walked away from a very stunned, largely dented Sideswipe.

-0-

Prowl didn't approve of this game. It involved throwing sharp things in the hallway at a specified target (in this case, a poster of Megatron), a crowd, and Saber. Primus, why did it always involve Saber? The youngling was trying to fit in, and she was doing a fairly good job at it.

However, every other week something like this would happen. There would be Saber, supposedly minding her own business... while playing some dangerous game, or fulfilling a dare, or (if this ever happened again, Prowl hoped he was far away) trying whatever concoction Sides and Sunny had whipped up.

And now there was this.

"What is the meaning of this?" Prowl snapped at the youngling, and glared at the crowd in general. "It's a game!" Saber chirped excitedly. "I named it 'Throw the Pointy Sharp Thing'! You told me to get a hobby last time I was in the brig for mutilating random objects. So I made this up. Everyone really likes it too, we've been taking turns," Saber gave him a rather unnatural smile, still holding a knife.

_Ratchet,_ he messaged the medic_, What are you feeding our new, young psychopath?_

_Sunshine and cyber-kittens_, the medic snarked back,_ She decided she needed a useful hobby. Knife throwing improves aim._

Prowl, needless to say, wasn't impressed.

_Ratchet, you're a bad influence,_ he griped over the messaging system.

Athena has a moment:

a;sldfjaiwoenr

must write hyperactive illegitimate child of a rabbit and carrot story.

WILL SEND TO YOU DON"T WORRY.

*scream and run away*

...

I wonder if I scare Jesus when he calms me down after praying.

Vivian channels Prowl:

Frankly, m'dear ditsy do, nothing scares Jesus.


	4. Drip

**Athena: reveiwww people. Also, these are more like... brief memories of Saber. Wild won't really be in here because...**

**...**

**she is orange.**

**and she is not mine.**

**Vivi- she's mine :P**

Drip

Drip.

Drip.

Drip Drip Drip.

...

Drip.

Saber twitched. She had been listening to that dripping for the past few hours. Eventually she had learned to tune it out, but that was only because she had magically remembered that she had control of her audios.

So she had shut them off. Bored with silence she had turned the back on.

Drip.

Saber tucked her knees up to her chest and glanced around at the same grey metal walls of her cell in the brig.

The Autobot brig.

Saber didn't really understand why she was here. She couldn't really remember anything except for suddenly opening her eyes and there was Prowl, yelling at her, and Ratchet was fixing some bleeding body who was cursing at her... Wild tried to defend her, or so she thought. It was hard to tell what was happening. She remembered precisely three words.

Hurt.

Confused.

Brig.

Somehow she knew the last word was an order, so off she went. Now she was here.

Wild hadn't even messaged her lately. Saber made a light chocking sound and buried her head in her arms.

Drip.

"Go away," she told the eternal noise.

Drip.

Saber tucked herself closer together.

Tap, tap, tap.

Someone walked toward her. Saber didn't care in the slightest.

"We're letting you stay in medbay now," Prowl said. Saber would always recognize that voice. Everything was a command when it came from Prowl, even if it wasn't. The locks on the cell door clicked and the door creaked open.

Saber still didn't move. She didn't even twitch.

"Saber. Now."

"No."

"Fine."

The door closed and Prowl left. Saber snorted. _I see your trick. You didn't lock the door. Sneaky beast. _

Saber sighed and stood up. She contemplated the door before simply opening it and hiding in another cell.

This continued for several hours, as Prowl would come back and check around for Saber, unlock her door, and leave. When she got to the last cell, Ratchet simply stormed down the stairs, sedated her, and dragged her off.

_Our tricks work nicely together, _Saber thought as she drifted off.


End file.
